Glimpses of the Stars
by Cheerfully Blue
Summary: Drabbles. Short little glimpses into the lives of our favorite crew as they travel among the stars. Expect mostly humor. Length may vary.
1. It Felt Good

It Felt Good

There were some things in life that Captain James T. Kirk would never understand.

One of them was why the phrase 'Captain James T. Kirk' sounded so good to his once delinquent ears. Especially since it wasn't too long ago that anyone who knew him said he was a waste of skin and would be dead by the ripe old age of 25. And back then, he hadn't been inclined to disagree.

It wasn't just the fact that the phrase had a good ring to it (and honestly, he would be kidding himself if he didn't admit that he had a_ great_ name. It just rolled of the tongue and sounded real official-like). But the fact that the word 'Captain' had replaced what was once the word 'Delinquent' just made him feel… well, it made him feel really good sometimes.

He was sure more than a few people back in his hometown had literally shit themselves when he had ended up on world-wide TV after the Narada incident, especially since he was the one who had saved the day and _not_ the one who caused it. He wished he could have seen their faces once they realized they owed their continued existence on Earth to him, the boy whole had made their lives a living hell for however long they were in contact with him.

His thoughts went out to certain people in particular. Lots of teachers, some local boys who had thought themselves thugs, Frank, a few cops, and even his mother. Yeah, he was real glad that he could finally take all those cold remarks and harsh sneers they had given him and tell them where to shove it.

Because they didn't matter anymore.

He was Captain James T. Kirk and he had finally gotten somewhere. It had taken him a while, and for a long time he didn't even know what he was searching for, or that he was even searching to start with, but the moment Christopher Pike had found him half drunk and flat on his back on the wrong side of a fight in that god-awful bar so many years ago, he had left them all behind.

This was the life he was meant to lead. A delinquent turned Starfleet Captain hell bent on saving the universe and defending the innocent.

Sometimes even he had to take a moment to regain his breath, because honestly, this was the last thing he had ever expected and what he had always wanted.

And damn did it feel good.


	2. Pink

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Pink

Leonard McCoy knew he was going to have a bad day. There hadn't been anything exciting happen with the _Enterprise _for a good three weeks now, which was about the time that the crew started to get jittery and mistakes doing routine jobs, which meant he got a lot of really minor injuries, which meant he had a shit load of paperwork to complete and he was not looking forward to it, which automatically equated into a bad day.

This fact was only enforced when Jim's voice contacted him over the comm a good half hour before the doctor was even scheduled to begin his shift.

"Hey Bones?" the Captain asked hesitantly in that damn way of his that said I-have-something-I-have-to-tell-you-and-you're-not -going-to-like-it-please-don't-hypo-me.

"What?" he growled back.

"You busy?"

Was he busy? It depended on your perspective. If you looked in the medbay, there was a distinct lack of patients for him to be treating, but if you looked at his data PADD that held an ungodly amount of paperwork on it, you might understand why he was working before his shift had even started.

McCoy decided not to answer that question and instead barked out, "What the hell do you want, Jim?"

Jim answered with an uncomfortable laugh. "It's actually a funny story, Bones…"

Before his friend could attempt to explain, McCoy rolled his eyes and cut him off. "Just get on down here."

"Do you think that maybe…"

"Jim, I am not comin' to you. If you got a problem and your damn feet are workin', you can come down here and see me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," was the defeated reply.

Ten minutes later Captain James T. Kirk walked in using his I'm-a-manly-Captain stride that he always used on the bridge, but of course this was negated by his current appearance.

Bones could only stare dumbly with his mouth half open.

"Jim…"

"I know," was the miserable reply.

"You're…"

"I can't get it off, Bones."

"You're pink," McCoy stated, like maybe he was hallucinating and his captain wasn't actually standing in front of him with bright pink…everything. Right down to his damned eyebrows and eyelashes.

"I'm never making fun of Sulu and Uhura again." Jim was pouting.

"_Pink!"_

"_Bones!"_ Jim whined pitifully, squirming like his now pink skin was uncomfortable. "Help me!"

Ten minutes later Leonard McCoy was still laughing at the top of his lungs, tears running down his face.

Maybe today wouldn't be too bad after all.

**Ah, Bones, we all love you.**

**But yeah, new story. First try at Star Trek. Let me know if you like it or if you have any ideas. Right now I'm just typing whatever comes to mind. **


	3. Bright-Eyed and Innocent

**I almost feel bad for Jim in this one. **

**But then again, maybe not. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Bright-eyed and Innocent

Slap!

"What the _hell_?!" Jim squeaked at Uhura, clutching at his injured cheek.

Jim really was offended. He had no idea what it was that he had done wrong, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't his fault because he usually took the courtesy of acknowledging how he would get in trouble for his actions before they actually happened. Once he had made a mental list of who he should avoid for the next 24 hours because of his intended actions, would he then proceed to make said action.

Needless to say when he walked on the bridge with a cheerful smile and I-am-the-Captain-dammit stride, he was more than a little caught off guard when his communications officer literally snuck up behind him and began her attack on him.

"Captain!"

Kirk jumped, startled. "What!" He did not sound scared. Uhura did _not_ scare him.

In theory.

"Can I speak to you in private?" she had asked him briskly. Well, 'asked' was being a bit optimistic. Uhura had all but basically demanded him to talk to her where no witnesses would be present, and judging by the frantic head shaking Chekov and Sulu were giving him behind her back, he wasn't so sure if he wanted to agree to her request.

"You know, Lieutenant, I'm a tad busy right now," he told her, swinging his body around and attempting to move towards the first panel of buttons he could press and pretend to look busy with.

"It will only take a moment, _Captain,_" she insisted, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him towards the door that led to the nearby corridor.

He turned around and waved his free arm frantically as he went, garnering the attention of the entire bridge. "_Help me!"_ he mouthed, hoping to be saved.

The entire bridge stared back at him like they thought he was crazy for thinking they would actually intervene.

Traitors.

Kirk decided that the best way to come out of this situation alive and with most of his pride intact was to try and take charge of the situation. So the moment that the door behind them was shut and Uhura let go of his arm (good _god_ did that woman have a strong grip) he immediately opened his mouth and started bullshitting, which went a lot like, "Lieutenant, as Captain of this vessel it against regulations for you to—"

Then she slapped him.

"What the _hell_!" he squeaked, clutching at the offended cheek. Then he cleared his throat because captains of Starfleet vessels didn't squeak.

"You bastard!" she spat.

"What is _wrong_ with you!" he asked, as he backed away from her, which meant she very quickly had him cornered against a wall and completely at her mercy. Or lack of it.

"How could you!" she went on.

"How could I _what_?"

Slap!

"Ah! Would you stop slapping me!"

"I don't know why I put up with you, Kirk! Every time I think 'hmm, you know, maybe he is a decent guy,' you go and pull something like this!" She was practically nose to nose with him and scaring the crap out of him despite her being the shorter one.

"Would you quit it! I haven't done anything. Jesus, woman!" He flinched as she raised her hand again.

Uhura gave him a look that said 'do you really think I'm that stupid?' "Oh, like you didn't do it."

"Do _what_?" Jim was really upset right now, because if he was being yelled at, he had a right to know what he was being yelled at _for_.

"Sneak into my room last night!"

Jim just gaped at her.

And whatever it was that was on his face made her blink. "Weren't you?"

"No!" he said immediately. Then he blinked, too. "You mean someone went into your room last night and you don't know who they were? Holy shit, what happened? Did they hurt you?"

Uhura took a step backwards, frowning. "You mean you really don't know?"

"Know _what_?"

Suddenly her cheeks flushed. "Never mind, Captain." Then she started towards the door back towards the bridge.

"Wait, woah, woah, woah, woah." He grabbed her shoulder to make her stop. "What the hell is going on?"

It was then that the door slid open and Spock stepped out.

"I was informed that the Captain's safety required my immediate attention." He stared at the two of them. "However, I am unsure as to what I am protecting him from."

"Nothing," Uhura answered immediately. "Nothing's wrong."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know what they hell is going on here Spock?" Jim asked.

Spock took his eyes off Uhura and graced Jim with a patient look. "Why you are asking me Captain, I do not know, since it would seem I have interrupted a conversation between you and Lieutenant Uhura and it would be illogical to assume I would have more knowledge on said conversation—"

Jim held up a hand to stop his first officer.

"What I mean is, do you know why Uhura is acting batshit crazy."

Jim was sure if Spock hadn't already raised an eyebrow, he would have now. "I do not understand what you wish to communicate by the phrase 'batshit crazy', Captain; however, if you are referring to the Lieutenant's rather flustered manner, I would assume it is in connection with her undergarments being hung from the ceiling of the mess hall this morning."

Jim's eyes widened and he turned to look at Uhura, who was clearly embarrassed, and tried as he might, Jim could not keep the smile off his face.

"Your…"

She pointed a finger at him. "No."

"In the…"

"Don't."

"Everyone…"

Slap!

"AH! STOP IT!"

"You deserved it!" Uhura snapped.

"I didn't do anything! Literally!" Jim honestly did nothing wrong. He had just walked on to the bridge all bright-eyed and innocent and she had ambushed him with wild assumptions.

"Well, you still deserved it," she maintained.

"For _what_?"

"For all the times you should have been slapped but never were."

And then she walked back onto the bridge.

Jim turned to Spock. "I didn't do anything," he appealed to his friend, still trying to comprehend why he was the bad guy in this situation.

Spock looked at him for a moment before turning and following Uhura.

Jim just gaped. He looked at a nearby wall like it would understand him. "I didn't do anything," he told it.

The wall ignored him.

**So someone broke in and stole Uhura's bras and panties while she was sleeping and displayed them for all to see. Of course it was logically for her brain to jump to Jim. It sounds like something he would do. And he has the override codes. Poor Jim. He really didn't do anything.**

**Well, that was a long one, don't know if the others will be this long, just sort of figuring it out as I go along.**

**Please, leave a review, I would love to see what you all think, even if it is a quick "Love it."**


	4. Not Our Fault Sort Of

**So the question was asked "who did it?" **

**And I started thinking, and then I started smiling, and then I just had to type it. **

**So this is a companion to the last chapter "Bright-Eyed and Innocent"**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Not Our Fault. Sort of.

If you asked Chekov and Sulu what had made them do it, they would both immediately point to Scotty. If you asked Scotty, he would laugh, say something in garbled Scottish, and then wonder away to go poke at the engines.

It's not like the two of them had _planned_ it.

But they were, _technically_, the ones responsible.

Sulu believed he was not to blame at all. Chekov and Scotty were the ones who brought out the alcohol. And whoever said that Chekov was innocent because he was young and impressionable was dead wrong because that kid could _really_ hold his liquor. Which meant that by the time Chekov was tipsy, Sulu was dead drunk.

It was Scotty who got on them on the topic of Uhura.

"Tha' lass is jus' a tad up tight, don' ya think?"

Sulu and Chekov had agreed immediately. They were really good friends with Uhura and loved her to death, but even they would admit that their friend was a little too into her work at times. And the alcohol hadn't helped anything.

They discussed her at length, deciding that Uhura needed help removing the stick that was lodged up her… well, you know. It wasn't a great discussion since they were drunk and Scotty was crazy, and Chekov had the mindset of a 13-year-old boy at his first sleepover.

Which was how the idea of sneaking into Uhura's room and stealing her 'undergarments' as Spock would later put it, came about. Sometimes Sulu really wondered about the navigator's maturity.

But it was Scotty who gave them the wonderful idea of hanging it up in the mess hall. In the end it was all his fault.

Of course the Scotsman was wise enough (and sober enough) to leave before Sulu and Chekov actually put their words into action; after all, why would Montgomery Scott want to be blamed for this?

Getting into Uhura's room was easy since she had long ago given them the code. Gathering all her 'undergarments' was a little more difficult because she had a lot and they were small and flimsy and kept falling all over the place. It also didn't help went you couldn't walk a straight line and were giggling the whole time. Looking back on it, Sulu was amazed they hadn't woken her up.

Somehow they managed to get them up on the ceiling of the mess hall; that was still a mystery to them both. But they had done it.

The next day Sulu had woken up with the worst hangover ever and miserably made his way down to the mess hall. He couldn't remember much from the night before and didn't bother trying because it was too much effort.

It wasn't until he saw the crowd and Chekov's look of pure horror that it all came back to him.

In hindsight, maybe they shouldn't have remained quiet about it. Maybe they should have said something to Uhura before she had jumped to conclusions. They _had_ tried to warn the Captain when she had cornered him on the bridge but…

In the end, they weren't all that surprised when a few days later their own 'undergarments' were hanging from the mess hall ceiling.

They really did sort of deserve it.

**Eh? Can't you see those two doing that after a night of uncontrolled alcohol intake and brainwashing by Scotty? I could see it happening.**

**Let me know what you think and leave a review!**


	5. Amusing Musings

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

****Amusing Musings

Jim was really hoping that one of these days the universe would just give him a break. Because honestly, it seemed to have a personal vendetta against him.

Otherwise, why else would he be in the situation he was in now.

Bones was never going to let him off his ship again, that was for sure.

Jim sighed. He really was kind of bored, or as bored as life-threatening situations allowed you to be, and considering his massive experience with them, was pretty bored since they sort of lost their flare after the first dozen times or so. And as life-threatening situations went, this was one of the more boring ones.

Sure, his right arm (and a good portion of his shoulder and chest) was trapped under about a ton of rock (which had happily decided that the day it wanted to move from the position it had held for the last two thousand years was the day that Captain James T. Kirk walked near it) and the river nearby was slowly rising due to the impromptu dam the rock fall had made (again, how convenient). And since Jim was stuck in a position flat on his back, he really had no choice but to wait for his crew to come dig him out or for the water that was slowly rising around his head to drown him. Really, it was rather boring.

He tried to pass the time by singing, but even he would admit that his voice resembled something close to a cat in a meat grinder, and eventually stopped because he was giving himself a headache. Then he named off all the elements on the periodic table in Vulcan, until that bored him because it reminded him too much of his dry first officer and he hadn't bothered to learn them in Klingon yet.

That made him laugh. Just imagine the look on an enemy Klingon's face when he started spouting off random elements in their language for no reason like they were cuss words. That would surely provide a distraction during a fight. Or in general. The next time he was with Spock he would test it out.

Hmm, the water was starting to lap at his eyes now. He tilted his head back, effectively covering his eyes, but giving his mouth and nose a little bit longer left in the air. Where was his crew? They were usually here by now and cussing him out and promising various forms of restraints. He had such a kinky crew. He would have to remember to inform them of that. Mental note made.

Despite what spectators may think, he really was taking this situation seriously. He just saw no need to panic since he had complete faith in his crew and panicking would only result in him running through the oxygen in his blood faster once he was no longer able to break the surface of the water. Which was going be very soon, actually.

Later, after he had blacked out due to lack of oxygen and had been revived and was done coughing up an obscene amount of water, he put his musings to the test.

"Goddammit, Jim!" Bones was ranting as he walked along the stretcher the bore Jim on the way back to the _Enterprise._ "You are never leaving that God forsaken chair of yours again, do you hear me? I will tie you down so tight, you won't be able to move a finger."

Jim flashed him a smile. "Geez, Bones, I had no idea you were so kinky."

Bones' angry face slowly morphed into vague horror at those words and the medical officer remained quiet, if not also a little green.

Jim grinned triumphantly, and when his first officer came up beside him, his face set in a way that said he was about to get a lecture on his own personal safety issues, Jim just opened his mouth and said, "Potassium."

Completely caught off-guard, Spock frowned, and then lapsed into silence as he tried to make sense of his captain's word choice and his possible mental health.

Left alone from his friends' constant nagging, Jim was more than happy to relax on the stretcher and soak up the peace of the passing landscape.

Maybe he should get in more life-threatening situations more often. They did wonders for his musings.

He should mention it to Bones sometime. The thought made him laugh.

**Hmm... I feel like I make Jim off as a brainless idiot. I try not to, but... it's just so easy. I must find an inner depth in him. **

**Feel free to leave a review or drop me some ideas!**


	6. Life Hated Him

Life Hated Him

James T. Kirk was a Starfleet Captain. He ran the most beautiful lady in the fleet and was in charge of the best crew a man could ever want.

He walked off the shuttle, the paparazzi snapping pictures like crazy. Clearly he was important and clearly the world wanted to know about the universe's youngest Starfleet captain who had saved the world and did it all while making those god-awful dress uniforms look red-carpet ready.

He glided from the shuttle to the waiting car, waving and smiling. He winked a few times, enjoying the reaction. He was awesome. He was brilliant. He was –

On the ground. Because he had tripped. With cameras all around him. Because life hated him.

**Not helping Jim's "I'm not an idiot" image much here, but it's all I had.**


	7. Training

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

****Training

Bones knew he would regret this, but he couldn't resist the urge to find out why many of the ship's crew members were giggling like merry little school children (a goddamn nuisance, the lot of them) and endeavored to find out.

So he had asked around and found out that whatever was so funny had to do with the captain and over half of the security team, all of whom had beamed down to the planet they were orbiting and Bones decided, against his better judgment, to beam down as well to investigate. He was starting to regret his decision when he saw his captain lying down on his stomach on the edge of a cliff with a shooting rifle turned paintball gun in his hands.

As Bones approached, Jim shot a paint pellet into the dense foliage below them.

"Gonna have to do better than that, Cupcake!" Jim shouted cheerfully, snickering as the head security officer let out a surprisingly colorful swear that echoed up to them.

Again, Bones was regretting this idea, but since he was a here…"Jim, what are you doing?"

Jim turned from where he was lying and gifted Bones with a beaming smile. "Training my Security team," he answered, before turning back around and sighting again. After a few moments he shot and another batch of colorful swear words could be heard from one of his security personnel.

Bones crossed his arms. "Jim, they're already trained. They spent four years at the Academy getting trained."

Jim made a sound in the back of his throat, his eyes still in the sight. "Exactly! That's why they need training. What they learned in the Academy is just a drop in the bucket, Bones, basic training, you know? Kiddy wheels. I'm teaching them," he said slowly as he carefully scanned the ground, "to think on their feet." He pulled the trigger again, this time letting off three in quick succession. There were shouts of angry alarm from below. Jim grinned.

Bones gifted his captain a 'this is bullshit' look. He didn't even care if Jim wasn't looking at him to see it, they both knew he was wearing it. "Jim, you're usin' them for target practice."

Jim shrugged. "That's just an added bonus. I'm teaching them evasive maneuvers, quick thinking, and strategy. Everything the security team of a flagship needs to know. Look Bones, it took them almost an hour but they're finally coming up with a plan." He nodded his head approvingly and turned to give his CMO an impish smile.

Bones rolled his eyes.

"Plus it's fun," Jim added, turning back to the forest below them. "And the Brass gave us a shit mission with a shit excuse to keep us out of the press for a few weeks so there's nothing to do. I've got the whole day with these guys." A wicked smiled spread across his face as he sighted again. "And I'm just getting started."

Bones sighed and walked away, ignoring the sound of rapid shots going off, the loud-stream of curses from the forest below, and the manic laughter of a bored captain who just found a way to entertain himself for the rest of the day.

**Ah, I wrote this one yesterday and could barely contain my excitement. I was laughing as I wrote it and am quite happy with it. **

**It's similar to the beginning of chapter 21 of the story Atlas by AngelBaby1 if any of you notice. The idea was too good to pass up, it truly was. Anyway, Atlas is a great story, you should all read it. **

**Feel free to review! Makes me write more, I promise!**


	8. Not Paid Enough

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

**Ah, so I have three chapters done, and I had trouble deciding which one to post. There was one I had just finished and really enjoyed, but this one I wrote a couple of days ago had been looking forward to posting it. So I went with the older one.**

**Hope you guys like it!**

Not Paid Enough

Jim decided, as he ran for his life for what was (as Spock had happily informed him) the twenty-seventh time since he was formally given command of the _Enterprise, _that he wasn't paid enough.

Not that it really mattered, he mused to himself as he and his First Officer rounded a bend in the cave they were trying to escape from with crazy mole-like monsters the size of bears chasing them. Jim spent so much time running for his life and healing from the injuries he received from running for his life and filling out a shit load of paperwork that also resulted from running for his life that he didn't actually have time to spend the unsatisfactory small salary Starfleet issued him.

He was sure if he got some of the liver-spotted, crotchety old men that claimed to be in charge out on some of his missions, they might agree to a raise. Even if he didn't spend the money, it was a matter of pride.

"_Keptin_!" Chekov's voice came through on the comm.

"What?" Kirk gasped out, cursing his Vulcan First Officer who ran calmly beside him, not weary in the slightest.

"_We are reciewing information zat makes us beliewe zat ze cave system you are in is inhabited by a large mole-like creature called gartanents_."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Really?"

"_Yes! Zey are about ze size of a grizzly bear, have very large claws which zey dig with, are almost completely blind so zey rely heawily on zeir noses, which are wery long and flexible like an_—"

"Elephant's," Jim finished for him.

"_Yes, Keptin_." Chekov paused. "_How did you know_?"

"Because, Mr. Chekov, Spock and I are currently running from them," he bit out, rounding another corner at a highly dangerous speed, his lungs screaming for air. Jeez, he didn't realize he was so out of shape.

"_Oh…_"

"Mr. Chekov," Spock intoned, sounding calm and steady like he wasn't pelting high speed down a tunnel, running for his life. Jim hated him. "Is there anything helpful you can tell us about the caving system or these gartanents that might prove fruitful?"

"_Umm… yes, Commander!" _The navigator replied._ "Ze gartanents can shoot wenom from zeir noses when zey are threatened. It is highly acidic and can go an awerage of twenty feet."_

Cue the giant moles starting to shoot acidic snot at them. Jim huffed and made his legs work faster so he maintained a good twenty foot lead. Spock looked to be having no trouble at all. _Damn_ him.

"Anything else, Ensign?" Spock asked.

"_Yes! Zere is also a fungus zat grows in ze cave zat releases a spore in ze air when light touches it. It's not dangerous, it just makes breathing difficult for Humans."_

Jim glared death at the flashlight Spock was holding and suddenly his inability to breathe properly made sense. "Perfect," he growled, his lungs heaving as they continued to pelt down the tunnel.

"Captain," Spock chimed in. "Based off your medical history and your unprecedented proclivity to get into medically dangerous situations, there is a high possibility that you are allergic to this fungus."

"And they let me come down here why?" Jim asked (well, 'wheezed' would probably be the proper description, but Starfleet captains don't wheeze).

"They did not," Spock answered. "You left, claiming to be bored."

Jim didn't deign that with an answer. It totally had to do with his dying lungs.

"_Uh, Keptin?" _Chekov asked urgently.

"_What_, Chekov!" Jim snapped, misdirecting his anger. He would remember to apologize later. "What could you possibly have to tell us now?"

"Z_e planet is riddled with caves, Keptan, all just under ze surface, and basic seismic readings of ze planet's surface seem to indicate zat ze vibrations caused by ze rampaging gartanents have caused many of ze—"_

"The point, Chekov!" Jim yelled, running into a wall when he took the next turn too widely.

"Z_ere's about to be an earthquake, Keptin!"_

If there weren't acid-sneezing giant moles right behind him and an alien fungus invading his lungs, Jim would have stopped dead in his tracks in utter defeat. "You've got to be fucking _kidding_ me."

His wasn't paid enough for this shit.

**I enjoy this one. I hope you did as well!**

**Please feel free to leave a review! They make my day.**


	9. An Abundance of Jims

**Eh. Not one of my favorites, but I've had it sitting around for a while and I need to post something, so...**

**Enjoy!**

****An Abundance of Jims

Bones slid into his designated seat across from the Captain in the mess hall. He slumped forward tiredly onto his arms, ignoring the cheerful smile he was given. "Jim, I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I think your crazy is spreading," he mumbled into his arms.

Jim blinked, his smile fading. "Wha' you mean?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

Bones raised himself back up and gifted Jim with a disgusted look. "Joanna had better table manners than you when she was two." He sighed and then pointed his finger accusingly at Jim. "You."

Jim stopped mid-bite. "Me."

"You, you bastard!" McCoy barked.

Jim swallowed hastily. "What did I do?" he asked offended, setting his sandwich down. "I've been rather good lately."

"You're being a goddamned nuisance, that's what you're doing."

Jim just gaped, utterly lost.

"You're sittin' up in your Captain chair all day, making your stupid ass decisions and almost gettin' yourself killed and I've got to deal with the consequences!"

"Uh, Bones, that's my job. Did I die today and not know about it?" he asked. "Because I honestly have no idea what prompted this."

"You did, Jim Kirk!" McCoy raged, pointing his finger again. "You happened! You're crazy is spreading. Do you know I just came from patching up some kid from Engineering who had hurt himself while fixing a tank or somethin' without using any type of safety restraints. And when I asked him what kind of idiot gets it in his head that climbin' around machinery like a goddamned spider money was a good idea, you know what he tells me?" McCoy asked.

Jim looked down at his food guiltily. He had an inkling.

But McCoy answered for him. "He tells me he saw the Captain doin' it just the other day and thought, 'What the hell, I'll give it a try!'"

Jim laughed uncomfortably. "About that…"

Bones cut him off. "Don't give me shit, Jim, I don' wanna hear it. I've given up tryin' to get a lick of sense in your head, it's a lost cause. Do whatever the hell you want, for all I care, but stop doin' it in front of impressionable minds!"

Jim tried to open mouth but was cut off by Bones.

"Remember just the other day when Uhura—_Uhura_!— told that dignitary to go fuck his mom? I wonder where she learned that?" Bones asked rhetorically. "And then last week I caught Chekov and Sulu studying the weather patterns of Caloria VI because they wanted to go base jumping. _Base jumping_, Jim. Off a _cliff_! Does that remind you of anyone?" Jim opened his mouth again, but Bones just kept on with his rant. "And then to top it all off, the other day saw Spock smiling. _SMILING_!"

"Bones," Jim said calmly. "I think you're over—"

The doctor slammed his hands down on the table. "No, Jim! _No_! I can deal with you, I can, really. That deal was made a long time ago. But what I can't deal with are a dozen of you!" Bones was literally shouting at this point. "One fucking James Kirk was enough. Now the whole goddamn ship is crawling with 'em and I won't stand for it! Stop spreadin' your crazy, Jim, or I will stop it for you." With that the doctor abruptly stood and walked out of the mess hall, leaving Jim to stare bemusedly after him.

Jim couldn't help that he was so awesome that everyone wanted to be like him, Bones should know that. Besides, his crew was too uptight. It was about time they learned to have a little fun and discovered the proper way of skirting Starfleet regulations for their own personal gain. He made a mental note to have Scotty slip the doctor some of the brandy he was currently working on in the distillery that _didn't_ exist on Engineering Deck 3. Poor Bones sounded like he needed it.

**Well! Let me know what you think! And if anyone was wondering, yeah, the title of the chapter is a reference to John Green's ****_An Abundance of Katherines. _****The title just fit. **

**Feel free to leave a review or make a prompt suggestion. I'm more than happy to see what I can do with your idea and reviews are wildly appreciated.**


	10. Jim Kirk is a Butt

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Jim Kirk is a... Butt

Jim Kirk was an ass.

An ass Uhura had grown to respect and trust and even call a friend, but the man was still an ass.

And Uhura did not date, let alone even consider dating, asses.

However, she could not be faulted for her reaction when she walked into the rec room early one morning and was greeted with the sight of Captain Kirk, shirt off, muscles glistening, face pleasantly flushed as he cooled down from the workout he'd just finished.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight and Uhura had to use all her diplomatic training to keep the wide-eyed dazed look that was threatening off of her face.

Jim nodded to her politely before grabbing his towel and leaving the room.

She would never admit it to herself, but Uhura had to shake her head a few times before she could move further into the room and begin her own work out.

Jim Kirk is an ass, she told herself firmly.

A _fine _ass, but an ass nonetheless.

**Heh. I feel like Uhura would be faced with this problem at least once. I mean, the man is FINE, and even she can't ignore that.**

**Feel free to leave a review! I love 'em!**


	11. Minions Part I

**So, in case you haven't notice, I've decided to post every other day, that way I have a pretty decent posting time and enough space between days to write without feeling rushed. And at the moment, I already have many completed, so I will keep this rate up for the foreseeable future :)**

**So this chapter has a companion, which will be posted on Thursday, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Minions Part 1

The moment Jim met Chekov and Sulu, he knew he was in love.

Why?

Because they were perfect for teaming up with him in his adventures (or misadventures depending on who you talked to). Sulu craved adrenaline just as much as Jim did and was brave enough (or crazy enough) to follow the captain on whatever new scheme he had cooked up. And Chekov? Why the kid was one small step away from being an evil genius and possessed a surprising lack of care when it came to rule-breaking. A crazy adrenaline junkie and a rebellious boy genius? Why, put them together and you have Jim Kirk.

The madness hadn't started right away. Jim and Sulu had bonded over the whole 'Oh, you're falling off a drill thousands of feet in the air with no parachute? Let me jump and catch you and hope to God we don't die' fiasco. And while the two of them had thanked Chekov for saving them, for a while it was just Jim and Sulu. They would talk a little, mess around in the rec room with Sulu's swords (Bones wasn't happy when he found out about _that_) and Jim's expertise on anything that had to do with fighting.

Chekov wasn't included until a particularly boring day on the bridge made Sulu turn in his chair and start talking to the Russian. An enjoyable conversation later and Sulu was inviting him down to the rec room where he and Jim usually migrated to on Tuesday afternoons. They were all talking as the captain taught Sulu basic kick boxing when (and no one really remembers what about their conversation had prompted it) Chekov mentioned something about having always wanted to go bungee jumping.

An hour later the Russian was hanging upside down off a platform in Engineering grinning like an idiot as Jim and Sulu hauled him back up for their own go. It was on that day that their friendship was sealed. And they all knew it was just the beginning.

**Ah, I always felt that those three together were a dangerous combination.**

**And I just feel like Chekov is excitable enough, and hero worships Jim enough, that he would be willing to do anything. Plus, he definitely has the potential to be an evil genius. If Chekov thinks he would get a laugh out of building a highly unstable, but completely cool nuclear reactor, Chekov would build it. **

**Let me know what you think!**


	12. Minion Part II

**Woot! Part II!**

**Let me know what you think!**

Minions Part II

The moment Bones met Chekov and Sulu, he knew he was going to hate them.

Why?

Because they were idiots. They were idiots who were happy being idiots and, judging from their medical records, didn't give a shit what kind of trouble they got into as long as it was fun. And both were assigned to the bridge. It was only a matter of time until Jim teamed up with them. The man went like a fly to honey when he found others who were just as stupid as he was. There was no way it could have ended well.

The day he heard about their little bungee-jumping extravaganza in Engineering was the day Bones knew the end had come. Jim had found himself a pair of minions and, in true Jim fashion, was going to exploit them for all it was worth.

He wasn't all that surprised when a few days later the three of them were brought into the sickbay covered in scorch marks and grinning like the idiots they were over something they had created, tested, and failed with.

Bones drank heavily that night. This was only the beginning and he knew it.

**Feel free to leave a review!**


	13. Minions Part III

**So a lovely reviewer requested a Minions chapter in Spock's POV. I was just too tempted to resist. So we have another Minions chapter! YAY! (I love those!)**

**I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

****Minions Part III

The moment Spock met Chekov and Sulu, he was slightly impressed.

Why?

Because as far as human minds went, the two of them were rather intelligent and capable of doing their jobs, even in high stress situations. Sulu (though the helmsman had admittedly made a less than praiseworthy first impression when leaving the space dock) displayed an unexpected talent towards his job by bringing the _Enterprise _around Saturn's moon undetected. And Chekov had gained the respect of the mathematician in Spock when he single-handedly made the calculations that allowed Kirk and Sulu to be beamed aboard while falling off the drill.

He saw intellectual promise in the two of them despite their age, and was not surprised when the captain requested the two to be his navigator and helmsman permanently.

However, he did not understand Doctor McCoy's immediate dislike to this knowledge. A dislike that increased exponentially (as observed through an increase of vulgarity that escaped the doctor's mouth in a constant stream) when it became apparent that the captain, his navigator, and his helmsman began to spend off-duty time together.

When Spock queried his observations towards the doctor (Was it not good that the captain and his command crew were bonding outside of their work?), McCoy had turned on Spock, growling.

"They're not becoming his _friends_, they're becoming his goddamned _minions_! His cohorts. Enablers." He waved his arm with an excessive flair of dramatics towards a table where the three in question were huddled together around their lunch, heads bent in close in conversation. "What you see right there is a meeting between three idiots dead set on making everyone's life miserable just to get a giggle out of it. That is not a good thing."

As they continued to observe the trio, Chekov suddenly jumped excitedly in his seat, saying something that made the other two copy his actions. The doctor grumbled. "I'd better go get the sickbay ready." Glaring at all who passed him, the doctor left, leaving Spock to blink, unsure if he should be worried about the mindset of the paranoid doctor, or the captain and his so-called 'minions'.

Two hours later, when the captain walked into the botany lab, asking Spock if he could borrow (and when I say 'borrow', Mr. Spock, I really mean 'can I have it for good?') one of the specimens the science team had picked up on a recent scouting trip.

Spock gave him the plant as requested (the lab technicians had gathered far more than was deemed necessary), asking why it was needed.

The captain just smiled. "I read somewhere that this plant can be fermented down into a syrup that is so poisonous, a whiff of it is enough to knock you unconscious for a whole day. Chekov and Sulu wanted to see if it was true."

Spock blinked, storing this dangerous knowledge away to be told to Dr. McCoy at a later time, and asked instead why Lieutenant Sulu was unable to retrieve the plant himself since the helmsman was often in the botany lab.

The captain laughed. "Yeah, Sulu's in sickbay. He got hurt when the phaser we were taking apart earlier backfired. But don't worry!" Jim went on hastily, seeing the minute expression changes in Spock's face and interpreting it wrong. "We figured out what went wrong. Once Sulu's done getting yelled at by Bones we can get back to work." He held up the plant in his hand and smiled. "And hopefully this little baby will be able to help us! See ya later, Spock!"

Spock could only stare in shock. The sequence of events that led to Sulu's injury and the mindset that a very deadly synthesized poison and a tampered phaser gun were a good idea (what were they _doing_?) had Spock decidedly rattled.

Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe the friendship of the trio was a not a good thing. Jim Kirk had a hard enough time staying alive without being encouraged.

Minions indeed.

**YAY! I love that one. Might be my favorite of the three. **

**So my lovely readers, what did we learn from that experience? We learned that if you give lil ol' me a chapter idea as small as "Ooh! Make one with Spock! Make one with Spock!" I just might do it. It keeps me writing, and you reading, and everyone benefits!**

**So leave a review, or a suggestion, or hug or something and I'll be happy! I love hearing back from you guys. You're all so awesome. **


	14. An Abundance of Johnsons

**I'm back!**

**And seriously guys? You're all awesome. I got six reviews for that last chapter. SIX! I'm so happy! And I LOVE the positive feedback. And the chapter suggestions? Challenge accepted. I will do my best to write every prompt and post them, but it might be a while, because some are harder than others.**

**So here's another chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

An Abundance of Johnsons

There were times when Jim was really _really_ glad that he and Uhura were friends. Because whenever someone got on her bad side, she knew how to inflict cruel and unusual punishments that wouldn't register on regulations. And try as he might, sometimes, he slipped up. Today had been one of times.

It was really his own fault.

His shift had ended while Uhura had to stay on the bridge to work a double shift, meaning she was really busy at the moment with all the junk that Communications Officers... were busy with. He was sure whatever it was, it was important.

Anyway, Uhura may or may not have been bitching earlier about Ensign Johnson owing her money for a party that may or may not be happening tomorrow night (really, being captain sometimes sucked because everyone was on tip-toes around you). And since she was being super nice and taking a double-shift (really, double shifts _sucked_), Jim decided he would be nice in return and track down Ensign Johnson to get the money and bring it to her. It's what all good captains did, right? Anything to help his crew (and ensure the best party possible for tomorrow). Besides, he was heading down to Engineering anyway.

When Jim mentioned his plan to go to Ensign Johnson for her, Uhura gave him a skeptical look.

"Are you sure, Captain?" she asked in a way that questioned his intelligence.

Kirk was offended. "Lieutenant, are you suggesting that I can't do as simple a task as track down a member of my own crew?"

Uhura's raised eyebrow suggested just that. Unfortunately several other officers were giving him the same look.

Jim let out a breath with gusto. He thought he had a better reputation than this. "I will have you know, Lieutenant, that I was made Captain for a reason. If I can handle civil war negotiations with a species that communicates primarily by sneezing and knocking their heads together, I think I can handle something as small as finding an Ensign on my own ship."

Uh-oh. Uhura was giving him a smile that did not make him happy on the inside.

"Of course, Captain," she replied. "How silly of me to make assumptions about your capability. You're more than welcome to find Ensign Johnson for me. After all, you _were_ made captain for a _reason_."

Shit. He had insulted her. Now he had to find Ensign Johnson or otherwise suffer a blow to his manly-captain pride.

Challenge accepted.

So Jim made his way down to Engineering like he had planned to, and once there, began searching for Ensign Johnson. Really, it was just too simple. Uhura must have thought he was an _idiot_.

He approached the young brunette who was busy cleaning out a turbine filtration system. When he was standing beside her, Ensign Johnson looked up questioningly. "Sir?"

"I came here at the request of Lieutenant Uhura. She says you owe her money," he answered.

The Ensign frowned. "You're running tasks for Lieutenant Uhura, now?" she asked, then quickly added "Sir!" when she realized how abrupt her question was.

Jim resisted the urge to rolled his eyes. He could do simple tasks! "No, Ensign, I'm just doing her a favor since I was making my way down here to start with."

"Oh," she murmured. Then she shrugged. "Sorry, sir. I don't believe I owe Lieutenant Uhura any money. I've never talked to her."

Jim blinked. "But you're Ensign Johnson, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir." The ensign smiled suddenly. "Oh! You know, I bet she was talking about the Ensign Johnson up in the Botany Lab."

Jim nodded, and began making his way there. Of course, how silly of him, he had just gotten the wrong Ensign Johnson. It should have occurred to him that there might be more than one of them. It _was_ one of the more popular Human last names.

The Ensign Johnson that worked in the Botany Lab had no idea what he was talking about.

"Sorry, Captain, but I would definitely remember if I had a reason to go talk to Lieutenant Uhura, if you know what I mean," the Ensign said as he worked on some orange plant that seemed to be moving on its own. "Maybe check in with Security, I know there's an Ensign Johnson down there that works Beta shift."

So Jim left the Science area made he was down to Engineering, this time heading towards where most of the Security staff was posted. It took a few questions asked around the security personnel, but he was finally pointed towards Ensign Johnson.

Again, he was met with a blank face.

"She probably meant the Ensign Johnson that works in the transporter rooms," Ensign Johnson assured him.

Frustration starting to well up, Jim took the man's suggestion and made his way up to the transporter room and eventually found himself face-to-face with a pretty little blonde who again, had no clue about any sort of money being owed to Uhura.

"But I know there's an Ensign Johnson in Navigation on this shift, it could be her."

"Jesus Christ!" Jim exclaimed. "How many of you _are_ there?"

A quick check of the ship's computer gave him his answer.

23.

There were 23 Ensign Johnsons on board his ship and he was trying to locate just one of them.

"Well, what's their first name?" The Blonde Johnson asked.

Jim sighed, running a hand over his eyes. "I don't know. Uhura didn't say."

The ensign looked like she was trying not to laugh. "If you don't know their first name, how are you going to find them without going to each of us and asking?"

Exactly. That was the problem.

And he knew Uhura was having a good old laugh up on the bridge, he just _knew_ it. He couldn't, without getting a dent to his pride, call up to and ask her the first name of the Johnson he was looking for, because that would be admitting defeat. She knew exactly how many Ensign Johnsons there were on this ship and she had let him go because he had insulted her (by accident!) and now he was on a wild goose chase.

He swore right then that he would never, ever get on Uhura's bad side ever again. It was not a nice place to be.

So that's how Jim spent the next four hours, running back and forth trying to track down every Ensign Johnson on that list. And the one Uhura had been looking for, Ensign Zanthia Johnson, had (of course) be the last one he went to.

But (of course) by then, she had already given Uhura the money.

Jim would have to remember to apologize to Ensign Zanthia Johnson. It wasn't her fault, and she hadn't deserved to see his little blow up. Mental note made.

However, he did storm up to the bridge to give Uhura a piece of his mind.

She looked really smug sitting in her chair and smiling at him. Oh, he _bet_ she was smug.

"You could have told me," he ground out between his teeth, trying to remain professional about the whole thing.

Uhura just smiled wider and raised her eyebrow innocently. "But I thought you were the _Captain_ and capable of the little jobs that us _lesser_ beings do."

Jim glared. He glared death. The woman should have wilted in her chair from the glare he gave her. "I hate you." And then he walked away.

**Heh. This one always made me laugh. Just because Uhura's cruel in it. **

**So! Tell me what you think. Tell me what you want. Want more Uhura? Spock? Bones? Minions? Let me know and I shall see what I can do. **

**Also, I'll take prompts. Again, something as simple as "Bones stuck with Spock for a long period of time." or "Jim eats alien food that moves." or "Bones and Jim." I shall take it all. **

**Feel free to leave a review! I hope you all have a wonderful day!**


	15. Self-Proclaimed Butt

**The first of the prompts! **

**Well, technically, it wasn't a prompt. But I did get two reviews that mentioned something that sparked this chapter so... I'll call them prompts!**

**This is a companion to "Jim Kirk is a... Butt." I can't remember what chapter number it is, so you'll have to go looking. I think maybe 8 or 9.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

A Self-Proclaimed Butt

Jim knew Uhura thought he was an ass.

Hell, he would readily admit he was an ass (not all the time, he did have his wonderful moments, but still).

And because Uhura thought he was an ass (and because she also seemed to have some weird alien kink—he wasn't one to judge) he knew that he would never stand a chance with her.

But that didn't mean he couldn't rub what she was missing in her face.

It took a week to figure out her work-out schedule, and then before long, Jim was waking up a little bit earlier on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays (good GOD woman!) and heading down to rec room six. He would run laps, or lift weights, or pummel the punching bag for about an hour, timing his routine so by the time he was all worked up, sweaty, shirtless, and ready to head back to his cabin for a shower, Uhura would walk in.

It was with great manly pride that he saw her eyes widen slightly and her breath catch. Every time. Once she even gave him a once over.

Because even though Jim Kirk was a self-proclaimed ass, he also knew that he was a _fine _ass. One that even Uhura had a hard time resisting.

Mission accomplished.

**Yeah. Of course he would do that on purpose. I might even some day write another chapter, make this into an arch. I shall ponder it.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Next chapter: Chekov gets hurt and Jim feels unbelievably guilty! **


	16. A Reason to Fire

**This one is a BEAST. Over three thousand words! I tried to rein it in but it wouldn't give any ground. But I like it.**

**So, two people asked for a chapter where Chekov was hurt and Jim went frantic over him. (And it could have been the same person, because it was an anonymous reviewer, if it was the same person, props to you. If I get two reviews for the same thing I automatically make it my next project. Someone out there is manipulating me.) Anyway, I accepted the challenge and now, my lovely readers, you get this monster to read!**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

A Reason To Fire

It really wasn't supposed to end up like this.

It was supposed to be a peaceful, routine, treaty negotiation that he, as a Federation captain, was to observe and sign off as witnessing. It wasn't even a really important treaty, it was just the renewing of a past merchant agreement between the peaceful planet Glacia and the Federation. It was literally so routine and coma-inducing boring, that Bones had only given him the smallest of If-your-ass-gets-hurt-I'll-kill-you lectures as a sendoff. Nothing was expected to go wrong.

So of course, it all went to hell.

"_Captain," _Spock told him over the comm. "_The rebels have released some sort of signal into the atmosphere that prevents the transporter from locking onto you and Ensign Chekov. We cannot beam you aboard at this time, and neither can we beam anyone else down."_

"Great, Spock," Jim replied, as he and Chekov hid behind some shed on some street corner. "You wanna tell me when you _can_ beam us up?"

"_Aye, I'm workin' on it, Captain," _Scotty answered. _"I might be able ta break through from up here, but it'd be faster if ya can destroy whatever's givin' off the signal. If ya can find it, course."_

_"Captain," _Spock's voice cut in quickly, disagreeing with the engineer. "_Since we do not know the nature of the weapons the Glacia rebels are equipped with, or their numbers and how they will react towards your presence, I propose that the two of you stay where you are until we can send in back up."_

"So you want us to hide?"

"_Affirmative."_

"They're killing innocent people down here, Spock. We can't just sit back and do nothing."

_"Though I regret the loss of innocent life, Captain, you simply cannot face the rebels and stand a chance of winning. There are too many unknown variables and you number only two. The logical course of action is to wait until back-up can come for you."_

"But when have I ever been logical, Spock?" Jim asks, only to continue before his First Officer can answer. "Is it not also logical to locate and destroy the transmitter that way help can come faster? It could take Scotty anywhere from minutes to days to find a way around the signal. By then more innocents will be dead and Chekov and I could be captured and most likely killed."

Spock does not answer for a long moment. "_I do not encourage that course of action," _he finally says.

"But it's the one where the most people come out alive," Jim answers. "And I'm taking it."

"_You cannot be sure that this plan will save more lives or that you and Ensign Chekov will not be harmed."_

"No," Jim concedes. "But you can't say that about your plan either. And I'm down here and you're up there, and it's my decision as captain."

"_As you wish," _was Spock's final reply.

"Scotty, can you pinpoint a general direction of the transmitter?"

_"Ah, yes and no, Captain," _Scotty answers. "_There's multiple ones, overlappin' signals, which is why I cannae git through. If you wanna take down the transmitters, you'll need to take out, I'd say about three of 'em, before I can actually have a speck of land to lock onto."_

"But you can locate the transmitters?"

Scotty made an uncertain noise. "_I can give ya a general direction, Captain, but that's it."_

"We'll make it work," Jim says firmly. Once he gets a direction from Scotty (somewhere north) he turns to his left, where Chekov has been guarding his back, phaser held at the ready. "You ready, Chekov?"

Chekov nods, his face serious. "I am ready, Keptin."

* * *

Chekov was never really supposed to come down with him to start with. It was supposed to be Spock. Or rather, Spock wanted it to be Spock (to ensure your safety, Captain) but Jim had put his foot down. There was no reason for his ship to be without its commanding officers, so Spock had to stay, despite arguing the fact that Jim often beamed down with Spock while ignoring the same argument Jim had just made. Sometimes Jim wondered if he purposely tried to be illogical (stupid/stubborn) just to confuse his First Officer.

Chekov had only gone because Jim had promised him on his 18th birthday that he could go planetside on the next diplomatic mission. That, and because the kid had turned his trademark puppy pout on him (one that Jim had advised him to hone as a weapon. He had never expected it to be turned against him. Bastard.) And even if Jim was an almighty captain of the best goddamn ship in the fleet, his defenses crumbled under Chekov's pout.

Why had Chekov wanted to go so badly? Because Glacia was a planet with a blue sun, which meant that during the day everything was bathed in blue light. It was definitely something worth seeing.

_But not something worth living with,_ Jim thought to himself grimly as he and Chekov tramped through a purple forest. He was blinking rapidly and squinting. The blue light from Glacia's sun was cool at first, but after spending hours in it, the strange color was starting to give him a headache and beginning to mess with his ability to perceive distance accurately. He himself had already tripped a fair number of times, which was nothing compared to how often Chekov was falling down.

"Keptin," Chekov said, looking down at the PADD in front of him which held a geological survey map of Glacia they were using to help them find the second transmitter. "I beliewe we should turn more east."

"Will do." He immediately turned and began walking more to his left, catching Chekov as the kid stumbled over a tree root, his head buried in the PADD.

It was only Chekov's amazing ability to calculate that gave them any idea where they were. Whatever signal the transmitters were giving off, it was blocking their location even from a data PADD right in front of them. They were literally guessing where the transmitters might be, heading in that general direction, while also guessing where they were as well. If the blue light wasn't already giving Jim a headache, he was sure this would.

They had found the first transmitter easily enough. It was on a rather tall outcropping of rock and was loosely guarded. It was no problem at all for Jim to sneak up to the guards and incapacitate them while Chekov worked on destroying the signal. It was actually surprisingly easy.

Which was why they had not expected trouble when they finally made it to the second transmitter.

They were banking on the second transmitter being held at the top of some really huge building out in the middle of nowhere. Chekov assumed it was a temple; Jim didn't care so long as it was easy to break into.

He probably should have cared a little more.

He found out later it was actually a very _very_ important temple. One that was always heavily guarded by the Glacians, and one of the reasons why the rebels were rebelling. They had seized the temple, for whatever reason, and were paranoid about having it taken back from them.

Very paranoid.

They had walked straight into a fire fight waiting to happen.

Well, actually, they snuck into it (they weren't _that_ stupid), but the outcome had been the same.

By the time they realized their mistake, it was too late to turn back.

And now Jim was dealing with the consequences.

"Come on, Chekov, just a little bit further," Jim panted out, shifting more of the kid's weight onto his own body.

Chekov tripped. Again. Jim paused and helped him regain his footing before plowing ever forward.

"Sorry, Keptin," the Russian murmured weakly.

"Don't apologize for tripping, kid. We're only human here. Not everyone can be as perfect as Mr. Spock believes he is." Jim shouted with victory on the inside when a small smile tugged at the kid's lips.

Jim felt something sticky on his side, and looked down only to see that the makeshift bandage he had put on Chekov wasn't working anymore and the kid was bleeding through.

As gently as he could, Jim sat the kid down against a purple tree, terrified by how pale his navigator was suddenly looking. Chekov all but wilted against the tree, his face scrunched up with pain, his eyes closed and breathing fast.

"Stay with me, kid," Jim tells him, gently touching his cheek in comfort.

"I am not going anywhere, Keptin. I cannot mowe." Chekov opened his eyes and gave him a cheeky smile, which was really more of a grimace.

Jim forced a smile in return and reached forward to tweak the kid's nose. "Don't get smart with me."

"_Da, _Keptin." Chekov closed his eyes again.

Jim took a quiet breath before turning his gaze downward.

The rebels had not found them until they were within sight of the transmitter. They could have turned back, but they had been so close, Jim had insisted they continue forward. He knew he could handle the handful of opposition he was faced with while Chekov did his thing.

He had not expected more would show up.

They had wanted them to surrender. Chekov took one look at the small army that had surrounded them then proceeded to ignore them, working frantically on the guts of the transmitter. Jim had ordered him to stop. Chekov ignored him as well. When Chekov _did_ finally agree to be lead away from the transmitter, they had not led him away fast enough, and the short-range bomb that the kid had rigged up with his rewiring exploded, injuring Chekov in the process.

Most of the rebels were killed in the explosion. And those that weren't, Jim took care of instead. Then he had grabbed Chekov and ran, stopping only long enough to wrap his gold command shirt tightly around the gaping hole in the kid's side before continuing on.

It was this gold command shirt that Jim peeled away now, working hard to keep the grimace off of his face as he examined the kid's side. Jim's best guess was that some sort of shrapnel had hit him, cutting into him, before continuing onwards, leaving Chekov with a very deep, very wide, and very dangerous looking gash on the left side of his body where blood continued to pour out against Jim's best efforts to stop it.

He couldn't help but think that this was supposed to be a benign diplomatic mission.

"Is it bad, Keptin?" Chekov asked, a question the kid had probably wanted to ask for a long time now (and one he probably already knew the answer to).

It _was_ bad. It was very, very bad. They had been tramping through the forest for over an hour since Chekov's injury (maybe more) and the thing just wouldn't stop bleeding. The kid was bleeding out slowly and Jim didn't have a clue about what to do.

Jim swallowed the lump in his throat and forced another smile. "No, kid, it's not that bad."

He could tell Chekov knew he was lying. But the kid played along. "Just a scratch?"

Jim blinked rapidly, clearing his throat. "Yeah, Pavel. Just a scratch."

The kid just closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree.

Jim began ripping the sleeves off his black undershirt, tying them together so he could wrap them around Chekov's waist.

"Hikaru will be upset," Chekov told him absently.

Jim paused in the knot he was about to tie, his blood running cold, terrified that the kid was talking about their friend mourning Chekov's impeding death (which Jim was _not_ going to allow). "Come again, kid?"

The Russian opened his eyes. "'Karu will be upset that I will hawe a manly scar and he will not."

Relief coursed through Jim, causing his heart to stutter back to life. He let out a shaky laugh, ignoring how his hands shook as his continued with the knot. "Yeah, I bet he will. Which means he'll be impossible for weeks." Jim tightened the knot, his stomach clenching as the kid let out a pain filled moan.

Chekov sat there for a moment, panting with his eyes closed. "Is okay," he finally said. "I will just tell him to shut up, and he will shut up, _da_?"

Jim was eternally grateful that the kid's eyes were closed. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll shut up then."

He didn't want to make Chekov move. They needed to go now so they could disable the third transmitter, but god help him, he couldn't find the strength within him to make the kid get back on his feet. He knew it would only cause him more pain and he refused to do that. He could also leave the kid behind, it would be faster, but the thought of it just tugged painfully at his chest. What if, while he was gone, what if Chekov…

He didn't know what to do. There were no good options.

"Keptin." Chekov opened his eyes, which were tired and full of pain, but Jim could also see a strength and determination in them that made him proud. "You must leawe me."

Jim immediately protested, and Chekov let him run his course before he spoke again.

"It will be faster," the kid said. "I will slow you down. And I cannot help disable the signal. It is better, in long run, to leawe me."

It _was_ better. Jim knew it, had known it all along. If he left Chekov here, far away from any enemies, he wouldn't have to worry about leaving him defenseless once they were in enemy territory. And the transmitter would be disabled faster, getting the kid to Bones quicker.

But if the thought didn't just tear at his heart.

Jim crushed his lips together as he blinked away tears. God help him. "Chekov," he managed. "I can't." He hoped the kid understood.

Chekov just shook his head, wearily. "_Nyet_, Keptin. I do not want to mowe. It hurts too much and I am tired. Do not make me."

Jim knew Chekov was playing on his emotions (much as Jim had taught Chekov to do to others in order to get his way) and _goddammit_ if that kid wasn't going to come out the victor.

"Pwease, Keptin."

And Jim crumbled.

Taking a shuddering breath and closing his eyes to collect himself, Jim gave found the strength within him to do what needed to be done. He opened his eyes and fixed Chekov with a hard look. "Okay, kid. I'll do it. But I'm coming back for you, do you understand me? Don't think for one minute that I am abandoning you. I will kill the signal, beat up the baddies, and then we're both getting beamed up to the _Enterprise_ where Bones will patch you up. End of story." He hoped Chekov caught what went unsaid. _Don't you dare die on me while I'm gone!_

Chekov just smiled. "_Nyet, _Keptin. You forgot where we drink afterwards. Zen end of story."

May god smite him where he stood for leaving this kid behind. "Of course, Pavel. We will drink afterwards. We might even invite Bones, that's always fun."

"_Da, _Dr. McCoy is a funny drunk."

He should walk away now. He needed to, but he just _couldn't_.

"Keptin," Chekov opened his eyes from where they had fallen closed. "You must go."

"I know."

Chekov's lips tugged upward. "That means you must mowe."

Jim was blinking rapidly again. "Smartass."

"I learned from you."

Jim refused to let Chekov see him cry. "Cheeky bastard."

Chekov just closed his eyes, his whole body screaming how tired his was.

Jim stood. "I'll come back."

"I know, Keptin."

"I'll see you soon, Pavel."

"You too, Jim."

And then Jim ran. He ran as fast and as hard as he could. The faster he went, the faster the kid could get medical help and so he ran like his life depended on it. He didn't feel ashamed if he had to wipe at his eyes a few times, even if it meant he tripped. That was fine.

He disabled the third transmitter. He was shot in the shoulder by something that resembled an old-fashioned gun. He didn't care.

He just turned around and ran back, shouting at Scotty as he went.

And then he was in the transporter room, and Chekov was on the floor beside him, and Bones was yelling at the top of his lungs and there were nurses everywhere. Jim tried to get to Chekov, the kid's skin was a terrifying grey, and his eyes were closed and _was he even breathing_? Was Jim too late? Too slow? If the kid died it would be his fault and what would he tell his parents who he assured he would let nothing happen to their son _and it would be his fault!_

Some nurse tried to get him to calm down saying something about his shoulder, but Jim could only focus on Chekov as Bones examined him quickly and began barking orders. He was aware of someone restraining him, of Spock telling him evenly that he was injured and he needed to good to Sickbay to get it checked out.

He agreed only because that's where Chekov was being wheeled away to.

He wasn't all that surprised when someone finally sedated him. He just wished they would tell him how the kid was doing before they sent him under.

* * *

He woke up groaning, his stomach protesting the medicine that was undoubtedly pumping through him right now. He swallowed the bile that threatened to explode out of his mouth.

God, he hated it when he woke up in the Sickbay. It was never pleasant.

"_Keptin!"_

Jim jumped, then froze, slowly turning to his right to see Chekov sitting up in his own biobed, smiling at him happily, looking at little beat up but otherwise fine.

_I will not cry, I will not cry. _"Hey, kid, how are ya?" His voice was rough because he hadn't talked in a while, and for no other reason.

Chekov bounced excitedly. "I am good, I am good! Hikaru was just down here. He said eweryone was wery worried but I told him I was fine."

Jim bet everyone was very worried. God help the Glacian rebels if something had gone wrong with the kid. They would have one very pissed off starship on their hands with a hell of a lot of explosives and a reason to fire. And Jim wouldn't have been able to find it in himself to hold his crew back.

Chekov just kept babbling. "He doesn't beliewe that I made the transmitter explode. He says I'm not that badass. You will tell him, right Keptin? You will tell him I am not lying? He will be jealous later. He will not hawe cool story to tell girls, but I will."

Jim could only nod, settling back comfortably while the kid's mouth sped off at a mile a minute. He let a relieved smile spread across his face. "Yeah, Chekov, I'll tell him."

***Wipes tiredly at forehead* Is anyone else spent? That's I've wrote in a long time. But I'm happy with it.**

**Let me know what you think! Love it, hate it, want more? (That could be difficult, I only have so many ideas to beat up Chekov, and let's not be cruel people.)**

**Leave a review and let me know!**

**Oh, and I had a hard time for the title. I got it from the end when Jim thinks that if Chekov died, the _Enterprise_ would have had a good reason for blowing the Glacian rebels sky high. It seemed to fit.**


	17. Spock, I'm Not Sick!

**Whew! After choking on some truly gruesome cantaloupe (honestly guys, I spat it out. It was disgusting.) I remembered that I had to update today! And I was so excited!**

**I got eight reviews for the last chapter! EIGHT! You all are wonderful and I love ever response I get. I really do.**

**And this chapter has been one that I have wanted to post for a while now, I've just never actually did. I know it won't be as awesome as the last one (because I loved the last one and clearly you all did as well) but I still love it. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Spock, I'm Not Sick!

Spock looked up when the captain stumbled on the bridge, coughing violently. The entire bridge crew turned to see the captain doubled over, arm covering his mouth.

Spock was moving towards him almost instantly. "Captain, are you in need of assistance?"

Jim shook his head, waving him away while he leaned against a railing, his lungs still dispelling air harshly.

With a final choking cough, Jim drew in a gasping breath, the air rattling in his lungs, and straightened into a standing position. He looked at Spock with fever-bright eyes. "No, Mr. Spock, I'm fine." He gave his first officer an entirely non-reassuring smile and moved to sit in the captain's chair.

Spock knew a sick human when he saw one. He also knew when his captain was lying. "Captain, you appear to be suffering from an illness."

"I'm not sick, Spock," Jim answered as he sat down, his voice sounding stuffy.

"I must contradict your assessment of your current health." Spock ignored the captain's mumbled 'sure you do'. "The forceful coughing you displayed only moments ago indicates that you have some sort of blockage in your respiratory system, mostly likely mucus. That you are producing mucus in such large quantities is a signal to you that your body has been invaded by some sort of virus or bacteria. Furthermore," Spock ignored Jim's groaned 'Oh, God, shut up.' "You're flushed skin and unfocused eyes, as well as your uncharacteristic lack of coordination when walking onto the bridge are all signs of a very high fever. You are, Captain, indeed sick."

Jim, who had long since put a hand over his face mumbled, "I'm gonna ignore everything you just said. I'm not sick, Spock."

Spock took a step forward. "Captain, an increase in temperature is very dangerous for humans and can lead to long term injuries."

Jim looked over his shoulder smiled at him. "Then I guess it's a good thing I don't have a fever."

If Spock had the lack of self-control like his captain, he would have immediately responded with 'bullshit'. As it was, he simply continued with his persuasion. "You're physical appearance would render your previous statement inaccurate. I must insist you leave your position and go see Dr. McCoy."

Jim just let out a short laugh. "I'm not going to see Bones."

"Why not, Captain?"

Jim coughed pitifully and gave him an amused grin. "Because I'm not sick."

Many members of the crew laughed at their captain's obstinacy.

Spock took another step forward. "Captain, the current bridge crew is ninety percent Human. If you remain on your shift, you pose a risk of infecting a majority of the crew, and in case of an emergency having an inefficient command crew affects the safety of the entire ship."

Jim was then undertaken by a bout of coughs. When he was able to speak again, he just shook his head. "Nice try, Spock, but I'm not going to Bones."

"I could arrange an appointment with Dr. M'Benga, if you so desire, Captain."

Jim snorted, which turned into a rather messy sneeze. He groaned miserably and pulled some tissues out of his back pocket. "And get reamed at by Bones for going to another doctor behind his back? No thank you." He blew his nose.

Spock inclined his head in victory. "So you admit to being sick."

Jim froze in cleaning his nose, then blinked and gave Spock an amused smile. "Sneaky Vulcan. Fine. I'm sick. Happy?"

"It is concerning that you believe I find personal amusement in your ill health, Captain."

Jim closed his eyes tiredly and leaned on the left arm of his chair looking decidedly miserable. "Oh, I'm sure you do. You're laughing on the inside, aren't you, Spock? Just rolling around on the floor and laughing your Vulcan ass off."

"I assure you, Captain, that the Vulcan posterior is not detachable, and therefore cannot be laughed off. "

Jim, chuckled, which again turned into a rather painful-sounding coughing fit. "I hate you," he moaned once it was over.

Spock titled his head. "May I ask why?"

"Because Vulcans don't get sick and Humans do."

"Vulcans experience illness the same as Humans; however, most sicknesses we catch can be cured within a few hours by going into a healing trance."

Jim let out a long-suffering groan. He opened his eyes and looked at the other members of his bridge who were avidly watching the exchange. "Will someone please take mercy on me and remove him from my presence?"

All Jim got were a bunch of chuckles, smiles, and shaken heads.

Jim sighed. "Cowards."

Spock closed in on victory. "If you wish to be out of my presence, Captain, I must unfortunately inform you that I will be unable to leave the bridge for the next eight hours. You could, however, leave the bridge yourself by claiming illness and heading down to sickbay where you could then be treated by Dr. McCoy."

Jim lifted his head and glared at him. Spock allowed the corners of his lips to twitch upwards in response.

"You're not going to stop until I go, are you?" the captain asked.

"I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," Spock answered, knowing it would rile up Jim even more.

Jim studied him suspiciously for .78 minutes before finally heaving a dramatic sigh, arms thrown up for Human flare. "Fine!" he declared, standing up. "I'll go! Bones will hurt me less if I go to him willingly, anyway. Spock, you have the—"

"**_JIM_**!"

Spock watched in amusement as all the blood literally drained from Jim's face.

"Bones!" Jim said cheerfully, though Spock could see his nervousness in the way Jim fingered his shirt. "What're you doing up here?"

Dr. McCoy, red in the face and looking very furious hurried over to his captain and began waving his tricorder around. "_Oh_, don't act so damn _innocent_, Jim." The doctor smacked the captain's head.

"Ow!" Jim reached up to rub his offended head.

"I got a call tellin' me that the idiot we call a captain decided to go on duty _sick_." McCoy smacked him again as he read his readings.

"OW! Goddammit, Bones!" Jim turned an accusing glare on the bridge crew. "Alright! Who tattled on me? Traitors, the lot of you!" The crew all innocently looked down at their stations.

"Someone with enough goddamn sense to make up for what you lack!" Bones snapped, turning him back around. "Dammit, Jim, your core temperature is one-oh-one and rising. What were you thinking, comin' up here? You should have come straight to me the moment you woke up!" Jim flinched as the doctor smacked him again.

"Bones," Jim pleaded, "I promise I was on my way down when you came here. Honest!"

He just whimpered as the doctor pulled out his hypo.

"You're running a high enough fever that I can take every word that comes out of your mouth as a product of delirium," McCoy growled, waving his hypospray threateningly . "Now shut up. You're comin' with me."

It always amazed Spock at how easily the doctor could spark fear into his captain. This observation was made even more amusing because the first officer had seen Jim face down time-traveling Romulans, rampaging gartanents, and pirating Orions without so much as flinching, but when faced with a cursing Georgian doctor with a hypospray, Jim Kirk was a pathetic mess.

Spock watched with ample amusement as Jim fought off the doctor and gave him a pitiful look. "You have the conn and all rights to my possessions should I not make it out alive."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Are you not being overdramatic, Captain?"

"_Godammit, Jim_!" McCoy raged, dragging the captain into the turbolift. Spock saw the doctor roughly push a hypo into Jim's neck and heard the answering yelp before the doors closed.

_Perhaps not, _Spock mused. While he was sure the doctor would not intentionally kill the captain, Spock couldn't help but think fondly of the Andorian chess set Jim had in his closet. Spock _had_ always greatly admired it.

***Grins* Eh? Eh? What do you think? Did you enjoy it ?*smiles knowingly* Yeah, I figured you would.**

**Let me know! Leave a review! I love you all!**


	18. Deploy The Pout!

**Good morning everyone! (Actually, that's a lie, because it's probably not morning for you, hell, it's not even morning for me, but I like the sound of 'good morning' over 'good afternoon' it just sounds more chipper.) So good morning everyone! I have another chapter for you! (Dances excitedly!)**

**This is a minions escapade chapter, so I hope you enjoy it! It's my gift to you, because tomorrow I go away to college (I'm so scared, it's not even funny) and since it would be my first time at college, I want to get used to the experience, so I may or may not update on Thursday. You might just have to wait until Saturday. So I'm giving you this glorious chapter because it might be all you'll get for a while.**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

Deploy The Pout!

Bones knew that Jim and his two minions were up to something the moment Jim had come down to his office asking stupid questions.

He would never understand why someone ever gave that man a ship when he asked questions like, "So this drawer over here is the one that holds all the vitamin suppliments?" and assumed he wouldn't get caught just because he made it sound like an innocent question.

Bones' bullshit detector had gone off immediately. He wasn't sure what his face had looked like, but Jim had suddenly started making excuses and bee-lined for the door.

Bones gave explicit instructions to all nurses on all shifts that if the captain, Chekov, or Sulu so much as look in the door of sickbay, he was to be informed immediately. He then replaced all the vitamin injections in the drawer Jim had pointed out with Royalian Pox vaccines, which caused the receiver to experience something similar to the Human Chicken Pox for the duration of a one day after the injection.

Then he waited.

It took the trio two days to actual try it. Chapel had covertly informed McCoy that Chekov was in the sickbay for a minor burn. The doctor thanked her and then moved towards the window in his office, observing the young Russian.

Chekov was good, Bones had to admit. Jim had trained the boy well.

He watched as the seventeen year old distracted one nurse and then sent another off to retrieve something or other, and once he was sure the vicinity was clear, Chekov made his move.

McCoy timed his intrusion so he deliberately caught the boy with his hands in the cookie jar.

"I do not know," he heard Chekov say, his back to McCoy, rifling through the drawer of 'vitamins'. "They all look ze same." There was a pause and Chekov said. "Yes, I am sure I hawe ze right drawer. Fourth from ze left and two down."

The boy seemed to be communicating with someone. Three guesses who.

Chekov nodded, suddenly grabbing a handful of the 'vitamins' and shoving them in his pocket. "Will do!" he said cheerily. Chekov stood and turned to leave the sickbay, only to come face-to-face with a very angry looking Leonard McCoy.

Chekov's eyes widened, suddenly terrified.

"D-doctor McCoy!" he stuttered.

Bones motioned for the handmade communication device in Chekov's ear. The boy gave it to him immediately. Bones brought the round object close to his ear, and over it he could hear Jim's frantic orders.

"_Quick, quick! Chekov! Deploy the pout, _**deploy the pout**!_" _

The doctor's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Jim!" he growled into the device.

There was a pause on the other end, then "_Shit_!"

McCoy was never sure what the three had wanted to use the vitamins for, but he figured since they were so eager, he would overlook the fact that, once the ordeal was over and McCoy was done shouting at them, they had still managed to steal three of the fake vitamin supplements. It was a glorious day for Bones when, one week after the incident, the three of them had to shamefully return to sickbay due to a raging case of temporary Chicken Pox brought about by the injection of a Royalian Pox vaccine, and the admittance of burning privates (a result their failed experiment, whatever the hell it was).

McCoy had never worked so slow in his entire career and it was worth it just to hear Jim whine.

**Heh. What prompted this chapter was the idea of Jim training Chekov to use his puppy dog pout to get what he wanted. And how funny it would be to have Jim yelling at Chekov, "DEPLOY THE POUT!" It made me chuckle.**

**Let me know! I'll see you guys again soon! It just might not be Thursday.**


	19. A Family of Stars

**Hey guys! Guess what? It's still Thursday! I've kept it up!**

**But, ugh! I am exhausted in mind, body, and soul right now. It's welcome week at my University and I feel like I just keep going and going and going and... you get it. People around here are waaaaaay too peppy. But I love it. **

**Anyway, found some free time, decided, why not, I'll post. **

**So, this little chapter was written about a week ago around two in the morning (when all great writing gets done *wink*) which is about the time when my inner poet comes out and takes control. So this chapter is not humor but... something different. **

**Let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

A Family of Stars

It is late one night when Spock finally understands his captain.

He had felt no need to sleep that night, nor a need to meditate, and had decided to pass the night by observing the serene passing of the space around them from the observation deck and was thusly making his way there. When the door opened, however, Spock was greeted with the sight of his captain, staring intently out the portals as they soar through the stars.

Spock hesitated. His captain should not be awake at this hour in the ship's simulated night. He wonders if his presence would be intruding on whatever it was Jim was doing. Spock understood that sometimes Humans needed time to themselves and he wonders if now was one such time.

But before he can step back out of the room, Jim turns and sees him standing in the doorway. And then he is being waved over and Spock acquiesces, sitting down next to his captain in a companionable silence as they both watch the stars soar by.

"You know, Spock," Jim murmurs after .54 hours have passed without a word spoken between them. "I sometimes still can't believe I'm here."

Spock turns his head and looks at him, his captain, his best friend, as he gazes wondrously out into the black, a look of awe on the man's face. "Explain," he says softly.

Jim sighs. It is not a frustrated sigh, but a sigh of one who has so much to say and no way to express it to another through words alone.

Jim tries though.

"I used to hate space," Jim tells him, his gaze still on the stars and the moons and the planets and all of the universe that they pass through. "I used to hate it because it took my father, and later my mother, and when Sam left, I was convinced it took him too. It was through space that I got to Tarsus IV and through space that I came back to a world that didn't care and wouldn't care for a fourteen-year-old kid that was too fucked up in the head to be fixed quickly.

"But while I hated it, I also loved it. I wanted to be where my father had loved to be and where my mother ran to find him. I always tried to find them and Sam up there in the stars. When I was little I convinced myself that my family was a family of the stars, that stardust ran through us instead of blood and space called to us until finally we could no longer resist and we left Earth to go join our place in the universe, forever burning bright up there."

Spock watches as his brow furrows slightly. "I hated it and I loved it. It took everything from me, but at the same time I believed that it was the only home I really had, up there in space, where my family of stars were. And now that I'm here, I really do feel like I'm home."

He begins to bite lightly at his bottom lip. "I feel like I belong here, you know? I understand now why my parents loved it so much, why my dad died exploring it, why my mom couldn't stay away from it, I get it now. Space is everything. All the beauty and the grotesque, all the good and the bad, all the light and the dark. When you're in it, traveling through it, you feel so much more than yourself. You feel like you're more than you are. You soar through it, seeing stars that were there hundreds of thousands of years before you and will be there a hundred thousand years more once you're gone.

"I feel...awe. Just this swelling of emotion inside of me, a feeling that makes me ask myself why I'm lucky enough to be here out of all the people in the universe. Why is it me? What did I do right?" He looks over at Spock for the first time since he has begun speaking, studying the Vulcan's features. "Do understand what I'm trying to say?"

Spock stares at him for a moment, letting his words sink in, before he slowly nods. "Yes, Jim. I do."

Jim nods, looking at Spock, somehow seeing and understanding that the Vulcan was telling the truth. He did indeed understand. He smiles softly before looking back out at the stars. "I'm home here, Spock. It took me forever to find it, and some days I still can't believe it, but up here I'm at home."

And Spock nods, because he understands.

He really does.

He is at home with his family of stars, burning bright forever.

**So! That was what little sleep gives me. I really enjoy that last line, because it can be taken in so many ways. Are the stars really stars, or are they the people around them, people who (like Jim) were never meant to stay on Earth? Who were born with stardust in their veins? I really don't know. But I like the second one best.. Plus it goes really well with the title (and that was completely unintentional). Maybe a mixture of the two, or whatever you guys come up with.**

**So let me know, I want to hear your feedback! **

**And for everyone wished me luck in school, I love you all. And the same to everyone who reviewed. I'll try and reply at... some point. Don't know when. **


	20. A Hostage Situation

**YAY! I'm still on schedule! I don't know how long that will last because I'm slowly running out of pre-written chapters and I haven't written one for a while, soooo... we'll see. I'll try not to get too behind.**

**And I love my school. Like honestly, I heart this place with a passion. You know what happened last night? They blew up this giant inflatable movie screen and showed STID. That's right. I nearly cried with excitement and I think I might have lost more than one of my new friends to my crazy. It's not even out on DVD yet. *Sigh* It was amazing. I love it here.**

**Anyway! This little snippet makes me cackle and has been sitting around so long I nearly forgot about it. I hope you all enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

A Hostage Situation

There was one thing that Jim had learned from all his diplomatic missions as a captain. Ninety-five percent of the time, when in contact with another alien species, said alien species would find him attractive and he could then extort that attraction in any way he wanted.

Most assumed he used this talent for getting a good roll in the hay.

Fewer knew that he also used it in hostage situations.

Poor Spock didn't know how to react when a bunch of rogue Orions captured the captain and himself and Jim simply told Spock to 'follow my lead'. Said lead being smiling seductively and saying, "How you doin'?" in a voice pitched lower than was his captain's normal timbre.

A few hours later, Jim having exchanged mutual good-byes with their kidnappers and promising to come by again sometime, he and Spock were set free and transported back onto the _Enterprise, _much to the surprised shock of the entire bridge crew, many of who were gathered in the transporter room.

"What the hell happened?" Doctor McCoy demanded almost immediately, looking expectantly at Spock since previous experiences had taught him Jim was an unreliable source.

Spock just blinked. "… I honestly do not know, Doctor."

**Yeah, imagine what you will. Whatever you want. This was meant for your creative little minds. However, if you're like me and like concrete facts about what ****_I _****thought happened, just ask. I don't mind.**

**Leave a review! Leave a prompt! I'll see what I can do!**


	21. Jim Kirk's A Butt Part II

**Oh god, guys. I'm slowing running out of chapters and time to write them. College is so busy! I swear all my time has just gone down the drain, never to be seen again. (Bye, bye time...) I almost didn't post today, but then I thought that would just mean, so here I am!**

**I hope I don't ever get behind schedule, but there's a possibility. Have faith in me. I have ideas, but no time to write them. Give me some time and I'll keep them coming.**

**This story is apart of the Butt arc. Hope you love it!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Jim Kirk's A... Butt Part II

Uhura had heard the giggled whispers behind her as two crewmen associated with the science division of the ship followed her as she made her way from her quarters down to Rec Room Six.

"He's _so_ hot," one of the whispered, the one with a freakishly high-pitched voice.

"And _so_ charming," the one with the pigtails added.

They both sighed. Uhura rolled her eyes and ignored them as they all stepped into the turbolift. She hit the appropriate button and noticed that neither of the two girls moved to press for a different floor.

Great. Now she would have to put up with them longer.

"He started changing his schedule a few weeks ago," High-Pitched told her friend.

"I know, I was so upset until I figured his routine out again," Pigtails replied.

"He's down there every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday morning," High-Pitched said, unnecessarily because her friend was already nodding.

Uhura stopped herself from raising an eyebrow. How odd, that schedule was _her_ training schedule.

The turbolift stopped and the three women stepped out, Pigtails still talking. "I wonder what made him switch?"

"I don't know. Ooh! But he's about to come out, he's about to—" High- Pitched cut herself off as Captain Kirk walked out of Rec Room Six, sweaty and shirtless. He smiled at Uhura, and then glanced briefly at the other female crew members before landing on Uhura again, looking extremely full of himself. "Ladies." He nodded at them before continuing on.

While the other two just about melted into the floor, Uhura started to fume. Kirk had changed his workout schedule; that was obvious from the hopeless stalkers behind her. However, even she knew it was too much of a coincidence that his new schedule mirrored hers exactly.

She didn't know what he was doing and why he was doing it, but he was doing it to bug her.

She was going to kick his ass.

**So as of now there is only one more chapter of this arc, unless I come up with something else. Feel free to review or leave a prompt! I'll do my best to work with it!**


	22. A Hostage Situation Part II

**So, I'm a day late, but many of you expressed that you don't care, and I'm happy you don't care, because that makes me feel less bad for not caring whether or not you care or not... That was a really long and confusing sentence. **

**Anywho! This little baby has been sitting in the dusty drives of my computer for a while now, and since I'm late with posting, I thought you all could do with a gift. It's another Minions piece.**

**The rest of the Butt arc will be posted the next time I get a chance to update.**

**Disclaimer: NOT MINE!**

A Hostage Situation Part II

Jim was lying on the couch, relaxing in his cabin, and generally just enjoying the peace for once. A person could only handle so much of Orion kidnappings, acid-sneezing moles, and near-drownings. Sometimes he just needed to breathe a bit, sit down, and read the complete works of Shakespeare.

He was in the middle of Hamlet when the buzzer on his door went off.

Sighing, and realizing his peace was now over, Jim closed his book, and sat up. "Enter!"

The last thing he expected to walk through that door was Bones, dragging a terrified Chekov by the ear in behind him.

"Jesus, Bones!" Jim exclaimed, getting to his feet. "What the hell happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened!" Bones growled, still holding firm to Chekov's poor ear. "This idiot comes into _my_ sickbay lookin' for you with that _stupid_ smile on his face; the one that only ever leads to him, you, or Sulu running to me bleeding all over the place, and expects to get away with it." He tossed a notebook angrily at Jim's face, which Jim caught out of reflex. Jim tried to get Chekov to look him in the eye, but the kid was staring resolutely at his feet.

"He was carryin' that," Bones told him. It seemed to hold some sort of blueprint for what looked like a mixture between a jet pack and a… surfboard? Jim did his best not to smile gleefully. Oh, the possibilities…

Apparently, he didn't hide his smile well enough.

"_Goddammit_, Jim!" McCoy exploded, waving his arms, but still holding on to Chekov's ear, making the boy whimper. "Don't encourage him! I want the kid to actually _live_ to see his eighteenth birthday. When I asked him what the hell he was thinkin' when he drew this up, all I get is a bunch of goddamned mumbled Russian. He keeps saying the same thing, but I don't know what the hell any of it means." Bones gave the kid a good shake to let him know it was his cue to speak.

Chekov then looked up and answered dutifully in Russian.

The moment Jim heard what he said, he burst into helpless laughter.

"_Ensign Pavel Chekov, USS Enterprise, SC9374024340."_

The damn kid was reciting the spiel you used for when you were taken hostage! Jim could've died!

"Oh, jeez," he wheezed, wiping tears and breathing heavily. "Dear god." He was unable to stop another bout of chuckles that overcame him.

When he finallt regained his breath, he ignored Bones' glare and grinned at Chekov. "You know he won't _actually_ kill you, right?" The look Chekov gave him said the kid wasn't nearly as convinced.

Bones glared. Jim was used to it but poor Chekov flinched. Bones gave the kid his most intimidating frown (which was pretty damn scary) and said, "This won't happen again, will it kid?"

Chekov shook his head frantically, wincing because of his ear. "N-no, sir!"

Bones narrowed his eyes. "It'd better not."

He then released Chekov's ear (Chekov scrambling far away from him), grabbed the blueprints from Jim's hands and stormed out of cabin, probably set on destroying the designs in some overdramatic way.

They watched him go, Chekov miserably rubbing at his bright red ear.

Once the door was closed, Jim immediately turned to the Russian. "So!" he said. "You've got another copy of those blueprints, right?"

Chekov just grinned.

**So, a few things. Yes, I named this 'A Hostage Situation Part II'. It seemed fitting. Yes, I am working on a chapter with an ACTUAL hostage (ANGST) situation. I will post it in due time (once it's finished and I'm happy with it). And yes, you are more than willing to volunteer characters you want involved in it (preferably not a lot of Chekov, I have already beat him up enough for now).**

**Second, I know in this chapter Bones mentions that Chekov is 17. I know in the chapter 'A Reason to Fire' (The Chekov ANGST chapter) I mention that Chekov has already turned 18. I am aware of this. If I was better at planning, I would have posted this before that chapter but... I'm not. However, these stories are meant to be snippets of ****_The Enterprise _****and her crew. In theory, there is not order. In fact, I haven't really been posting them in any particular order. The timing is usually meant to be ambiguous. If it looks like I make mistakes in the timeline in later chapters, I will cheerfully refer you to this note and scold you for not reading my every word XD**

**And lastly, to all my reviewers, you are wonderful. I love all the support you give and I really appreciate the time you take to leave a review. And for any who are wondering, school is going great. Thank you so much for asking. I hope you all have a wonderful day.**


	23. The Butt and His Game

**Technically, it's still Saturday, so technically, I'm not late!**

**Disclaimer: Still not mine!**

The Butt and His Game

No one would ever call Uhura out on not striving to be the best at everything she did. So when she decided to get some payback at Kirk for mirroring her workout routine, she decided to do some recon first.

That meant spending a week with her mouth glued shut in a frown as she tried to figure Kirk out.

The first time she walked into the rec room and glared at him while he was leaving was interesting, because he honestly looked a bit put out.

And then she used the basic scientific method (maybe Spock was rubbing off on her) to judge his reactions to her reactions in order to figure out his game.

And once she did, she decided to put her own spin on it.

And that's how, a week later, Uhura found herself waking up way too early on a Monday morning and making her way down to Rec Room Six. She did her thing, sweat soaking her tank top, and as she was leaving, she just so happened to run into Kirk on her way out as he made his way in.

What a strange coincidence.

Kirk gapped at her obnoxiously, his eyes taking her in.

Uhura tried not to smile smugly.

Mission accomplished.

**Let me know what you think! Leave story ideas! I'll see what I can do!**


	24. Chekov and McCoy

**Yup. I know. I own a calendar. But I have a sweet one for ya. Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine!**

Chekov and McCoy

Everyone aboard the _Enterprise_ knew that Chekov, Pavel Andreivich, was not a coward.

At fourteen he had moved away from his family to join Starfleet. At seventeen he navigated one of the biggest crisis Starfleet had seen in years, and not only did he do his job, he helped save Earth. At eighteen he rigged a bomb to explode so he and Captain Kirk could evade capture. Pavel Chekov was anything but a coward.

However, no one could fault him if Leonard 'Bones' McCoy scared the living shit out of him.

Chekov knew, deep in his heart, that Doctor McCoy would never do anything to _actually_ harm him. In fact, there were many times when the doctor was downright lovable to him. (In that grumpy way he had, where loveable equated to frowning less intensely at him while fighting back a smile.)

Chekov knew that Doctor McCoy was actually very fond of him, and after a few bumpy starts and misunderstandings, Chekov had, in turn, become fond of the doctor as well. They were friends, in that weird, growly way that Doctor McCoy made friends.

So when Chekov was towed down to sickbay by Jim and Hikaru after going the whole alpha shift with a ragging fever, he was rightfully terrified.

McCoy was going to skin him alive.

Nurse Chapel took one look at the three of them, asked how long he had been experiencing symptoms, and then upon hearing his answer, clucked her tongue and walked away as if to say 'Good luck!'

Chekov knew he needed more than luck.

He was about to be scolded by the man who had been known to make decorated Starfleet Admirals tremble.

McCoy growled when he saw them.

"What did you three idiots do _this_ time?" he asked darkly as he began waving his tricorder back and forth in front on Pavel's face.

Hikaru immediately took a large step backwards as if to distance himself from any possible blame while Jim's face pulled into a hurt pout. "Bones, we didn't do anything. Why would you ever think we would do something that would cause us to get hurt? The kid's just sick."

"Why indeed," Pavel heard the doctor grumble under his breath. "So," his patented doctor scowl fixed itself on Chekov. "Why is it that you're only coming to me after alpha shift is over?"

Chekov just blinked. His head hurt, his stomach was beginning to protest his meager breakfast, and Doctor McCoy was starting to look blurry.

"Goddammit, Jim!" he heard the doctor say as hands were forcing him to lay backwards onto the bio bed. "What were you thinking letting him work like this?"

"Like what? He was fine an hour ago, maybe a little quiet, but how was I supposed to know that meant he was sick?"

"Maybe because the kid never stops talking at a mile a minute? And his flushed face would've been a good clue, too."

"Don't look at me! All I see is the kid's back all day. Blame Sulu!"

Chekov, whose eyes were closed now because the sickbay was spiraling most unnervingly, could imagine the doctor spinning to glare at the pilot, who, in turn, would be glaring at his captain.

"I was aware that Pavel was looking a bit off," Hikaru bit out stiffly, no doubt sending Jim a death look the whole time. "I asked him if he wanted to go get treatment, but he refused. He didn't start to look real bad until the very end of the shift. That's why we brought him down."

"Idiots," McCoy growled, and Pavel felt cool hands placing themselves on his forehead and neck. "Get out of here before I dose you up with the Royalian Pox vaccine again!"

Considering how awful he remembered that experience being, Pavel wasn't all the surprised when the sickbay was a lot quieter really fast.

"A Russian genius," he heard McCoy grumble. "Genius my ass." Pavel felt a hand at his wrist. "Idiot."

Suddenly, his stomach flipped and his eyes snapped open, one hand going to his mouth, the other to his stomach. "Doctor!"

McCoy had a basin in front of his face in no time, helping to support him by a strong arm around his shoulders as Pavel heaved. When he was done, McCoy helped him lay back down, which would have been difficult on his own because he was trembling so much.

"I am sorry I did not come sooner," Pavel told him, watching as the doctor gently pressed a hypo against his neck. "I zought it was nothing."

"Leave the hero complex to Jim, kid," McCoy told him, his tone gentle despite his scolding words and frowning face. "He does it better. And the next time you feel bad, just come and see me, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Chekov mumbled, his eyes closing as the sedative McCoy must have given him began to kick in. "Zank you."

Pavel was sure he imagined the feel of a hand pushing back his curls as he drifted off.

"Don't worry about it, kid."

Leonard McCoy terrified Chekov. But it was mostly just an act. He knew the doctor wasn't as mean as he tried to be, and McCoy knew the kid wasn't as scared as he pretended to be. It was how their relationship worked. Get hurt, yell, cower with fear, repeat. McCoy loved the kid like his own, and Chekov knew he could always rely on the grumpy doctor.

That didn't mean that come morning the next day, Chekov (looking much healthier), wasn't scolded by McCoy like there was no tomorrow, being called an idiot through the use of three different metaphors, and being promised that if he was ever seen in sickbay again, his privates would not be happy with him.

Chekov just thanked the doctor again and scurried out of sickbay, smiling at the way McCoy's frown was negated by the warm look in his eyes.

**Awwwwww! Isn't it cute! This is in response to a comment that I got about Chekov not having to be so scared of Bones. He's not. Well, not anymore. Okay, he is (who isn't?), but he's learned how to decipher it. **

**Let me know what you think! **


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